


Making Quality Time

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [70]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Family Bonding, Fluff, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Claire carves time out of her schedule when the need arises.





	Making Quality Time

                                                            

_It was incredible, all things considered, what percentage of their lives were spent in the kitchen,_ Claire thought as she rinsed a plate to put in the dishwasher. She and the children had just finished dinner and were on to a variety of other tasks. Jamie should have been home from work already but a plate sat in the oven for him with the intent that it would still be warm when he arrived. Whenever that would be.

“Mama?” Bree whined from the kitchen table that had been cleared and wiped off after the meal.

“Yes, love?” she asked.

“When will Da get home? I need him,” she exhaled in a dramatic huff.

Bree and Jamie had been playing chess lately in an effort to allow her competitive spirit to be harnessed in a way that fostered thinking and strategizing instead of the impulsivity that she was naturally inclined to.

“I still don’t know, Brianna,” she replied for the fifth time. “He ought to have been here by now, but he seems to be running late. I’m sure he’ll come as soon as he can. He loves playing chess with you.”

Faith watched them from the tiny table in the corner where she was sitting with Willa and Fergus, a slew of magnetic letters and numbers lying before them. Pulling her attention away from her sister and mother, she focused again on the twins.

“What’s this here, Willa?” She gently waved a number four in the air.

“It’sa one!” the little girl stated.

“Hm, maybe brother knows,” she turned to him. “What’s this, Fergus?”

“Four!” he said triumphantly.

“Ok, how about this instead,” Faith continued patiently, holding up another number.

“It’sa one?” Willa asked hesitantly.

“Nope,” Faith giggled. “ _This_ ,” she pointed to the proper number, “Is a one. I’ve got a five.”

“And one and two and three and four and five!!!” Fergus interjected wildly, waving his hands madly, and scrambling the numbers on the table.

“I’m finally home!” Jamie’s voice echoed down the hallway and into the kitchen causing a flurry of tiny Frasers to abandon what they were doing in order to greet their da.

“I set up chess, Da!” Bree shouted over the din of her siblings’ eager greetings.

“Oh, aye?” he asked, deftly scooping up Willa and Fergus while kissing Faith on her forehead. “That’s good because I intend to win!” He wiggled his eyebrows in a ridiculously non-threatening manner causing his oldest daughters to burst into laughter.

“Dinner’s warming for you in the oven. I’ll be back down in a few minutes to spend time with all of you, ok?”

He snagged her arm as she passed by, stopping her for a kiss. “Much better,” he grinned.

There hadn’t been more than five waking moments that she’d had to herself in the last few days while he’d been working. Time and time again she said that she loved being with their children but it didn’t make things any less busy just because she loved them. It _did_ mean that she needed to carve out some time to herself when Jamie came home.

She threw a pair of shorts and a tank top on the chair in the corner of their bedroom and grabbed her running shoes. On the mornings he _was_ home, she ran.

Walking back into the kitchen she set her shoes by the back door and took in the scene. Jamie and Bree were engaged in their chess game already as if it was the battle of the century. Willa continued to play at the tiny table with the numbers and an incredibly puzzled look on her face. Fergus had abandoned the numbers and, though he had an entire kitchen to play in, was squashed under the big table with his toy fire engine. And Faith sat on a bar stool with a book she’d been reading to herself, staring at her mother.

“Can I go with you, Mama? _Please_?” she said imploringly. “I’ll get up early and be ready. I’m always awake.”

It took only a moment’s hesitation before Claire answered. “Of course, lovey,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Faith’s bony shoulders and kissing her porcelain cheek. “You can come along. We’ll go together.”

* * *

They’d woken a bit on the early side, just as planned. Faith sat, legs criss-cross, on the counter in the master bathroom as Claire braided her daughter’s hair so it wouldn’t get in her face. Never one to run on an empty stomach, they ate a light “breakfast” knowing that they’d come back and eat with the family.

They quietly did yoga and stretched together, joined by Willa who flopped about unceremoniously on the floor, bending herself into unusual shapes.

When they finally set out on the packed gravel of their driveway, Claire purposefully set a 10-minute mile pace.

Early in the school year, she’d practiced running laps at recess. In her school’s Fun Run just last month, Faith had run enough laps to equal a 5k in the half-hour time frame that her class was given on the school’s track. Granted, her teacher had mentioned that Faith _had_ said she felt as if she was going to vomit, but after they found their stride, Claire had no problem allowing her firstborn to take the lead.

At the end of the driveway, they turned onto the trail that joined the perimeter of their land with a few neighboring plots. Faith set a good place, glancing now and again to see that her mama was with her still.

A solid three miles and a half an hour later they turned back onto their own driveway and slowed to a walk. Faith slid her tiny sweaty hand into her mama’s.

“That was pretty good, huh?” she asked, turning sideways and galloping a few steps to look at Claire’s face.

“It was,” Claire assured her. “I’m surprised at how well you handled that! Did you enjoy yourself or did you just enjoy,” she paused, “Um, the being together without everyone else?” She waited a bit nervously for the answer.

Just last night she and Jamie had discussed Faith’s unusual request to go running.

“She’s so easy to overlook,” Claire had mourned.

They were finally in bed, he on his back with one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around his wife who lay pressed against his side.

“She’s quiet and follows directions and does things independently,” Claire sighed as she listed things off. “It seems like she never needs anyone.”

“Sorcha, she kens we love her. I’ve said it afore, but you and only you can give our bairns what they need. That’s why you’re their mam. Running wi’ her is a good way to spend time wi’ her.” He gently stroked up and down her arm in a soothing manner.

Her husband had said that if Faith ended up running with her, he’d make sure that his wife still got some “me time” in spite of the change.

So they’d run today and now she waited for Faith’s answer, wondering _how_ to best carve out time with their oldest.

“Both!” Faith grinned and threw her arms around Claire’s legs and shoved her face into her mama. “I like being with just you even though I love everyone else. It was a special time, huh Mama?”

She nodded at her daughter, smiling blissfully.

“But running makes my body happy too. It’s hard, but not _bad_ -hard. The good kind of hard like when I learn a new piano song that my Murtaugh tried to teach me for a long time. You know?”

“I know,” Claire replied. “So, next time I go running then, you want to…” she trailed off.

“Come _with_!” exclaimed a happy Faith, wild curls escaping her braid.

So the next time Claire went running, Faith ran too.


End file.
